#technically sfw

[blushweddinggowns]

There were a lot of things that Eddie loved about going on tour. He loved traveling, exploring the country and beyond with his best friends. He loved the feeling of being on stage, all eyes on them as they played their asses ass. He even loved the tiny twin beds of the tour bus, especially since it usually led to Steve sleeping right on top of him. 

But he especially loved the little rituals they had before a show. 

“Eddie, baby, you gotta, fuck, go soon,” Steve groaned. He was trying to be the voice of reason, even if he was technically still pulling Eddie closer. Eddie was sucking a bruise into his neck, a hand slowly slinking under his shirt. 

“Mmhm,” Eddie mumbled, making no moves to get up. The show didn’t start for another few hours and if he was ten minutes late for mic check, they’d live. Eddie could do a lot in those ten minutes, “Just a little more-”

But then Gareth was pounding on the green room door, “Munson for the love of God, stop making out and get your ass out here!”

“Told you so,” Steve laughed, breathless as Eddie reluntaly got off of him, “Now you’re going to have to rehearse with an erection.”

“Well you have to watch it with one, so we both lose,” Eddie sighed as he stood, stopping to kiss Steve’s forehead.

“Do we? Because last time I checked that door locked. And…” Steve leaned past him, grabbing one of the Rolling Stone magazines from the coffee table. The one that Eddie was on the cover of. He grinned as he lifted it up, “I have the best jerk-off material available. You’re on your own.”

“Oh, you brat,” Eddie groaned just as Gareth started pounding on the door again, “You’re going to pay for that tonight.”

Steve smirked as Eddie walked away backwards, having the audacity to give him a little wave, “I would hope so.”

Eddie forced himself to turn away, comforted by the fact that Steve would barely be able to sit by the time he was done with him.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, Jesus,” He groaned as he swung the door open, nearly getting himself punched in the face in the process. 

Gareth retracted his hand just in time. He looked Eddie up and down with a sigh, “Why am I even surprised?”

“Hi Steve,” He added, waving at him from the doorway, “You mind if I fuck your husband up for being a late asshole? Just a little bit?”

“Just make sure not to hit him in the head,” Steve laughed, face flushed as he buttoned up his shirt, “We can’t have anymore concussions between the two of us.”

“I’ll take it,” Gareth sighed as he grabbed Eddie’s arm. Eddie barely managed to squeak out a quick Love you! before Gareth was dragging him away. 

“Next time you ask us why we make you pay for after-parties please, remember this moment.”

“Will you fault a man for his addiction?” Eddie asked, dramatically putting a hand over his heart, “It’s a dependency I have no fault over-”

“No fault my ass,” Gareth huffed, the smallest hint of a smile hiding behind his grimace, “You’ve been an addict for a goddamn decade.”

from the soon-to-be-published epilogue of this fic

@jjoesjonas because I picked up writing this again after they sent me those Joe Keery audio clips from Fargo 👀👀

[heartbreak-sandwich]

ANIMAL MAGNETISM ~ Part 1 ~ Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader - SFW, slight angst, building tension, Lifeguard Billy x Lifeguard Reader, bossy boss Billy 💖

A/N: This was originally supposed to be a small oneshot blurb, but a lovely follower requested a continuation, and you can find it here! I'm so excited to have given this a title, and there will be more to this story. 😎 Thank you to all who have enjoyed my work so far. You inspire me to keep writing, and I love you very much!

"Go fish out the change that kid dropped in the deep end. I don't want to wash my hair again." Billy was crunching potato chips in the shade as he barked orders at you while you were both supposed to be closing the Hawkins Pool. Typically you ignored him, but it was just the two of you for the end of the shift, the work needed to be done, and you knew he wasn't going to be the one to do it. You rolled your eyes and took the plunge just to get it over with.

--

"Put the cover on so we can get out of here." He didn't even look at you while he spoke this time. You finally had enough of him telling you what to do, so you stormed over to him.

"Why don't you do it yourself?" Billy's eyes snapped up to meet yours. You held your ground, standing with your hands on your hips, not breaking the stare. "What? Big, strong Billy Hargrove can't put the cover on the pool all on his own?" His blue eyes darkened like the sky before a storm, and he started to take slow, methodical steps toward you.

"What did you say?" He was trying to intimidate you, and you knew it. You weren't going to let him win this game.

"You heard me, Billy," you replied as he continued toward you until he stood right in front of you, your faces just inches apart. He jutted his chin upwards slightly and scoffed.

"No one tells me what to do, princess. Now go cover the damn pool so we can get out of here." The nickname sent a jolt through your stomach and up your chest -- electric butterflies.

"You've been ordering me around all day, and I'm so tired --" Billy put two fingers up against your lips and stopped you mid sentence. What the hell was he doing?

"Open," he demanded, his eye contact unwavering. You felt fire rise to your cheeks as you obeyed without question. He ran the pads of his pointer and middle fingers along the top of your silky, wet tongue back and forth, and slowly pulled them back out again.

"See," he started, tilting your chin up and running his thumb along your lower lip, cleaning up a small spot of escaped saliva, "you do know how to listen." Your mouth snapped closed when you realized what he had just done to you, and your trance was broken.

"That's not fair," you pouted, your brows furrowing as you took a step back. Billy donned his signature smirk and unwrapped a piece of gum, the scents of mint, chlorine, and Paco Rabanne pour homme pulling you back under his spell like a moth to a flame. He turned on his heel and strutted back toward the office, leaving you standing there to process what had just happened.

"Pool cover, princess!" His harsh tone made it obvious that you would still be receiving no help from him despite your attempt at leveling the field. Why did you obey him? Defeated and mortified, you left your desires to swirl around in your mind, reluctantly sauntering over to the cover and rolling out the long mat onto the top of the pool.

PART TWO ❤️‍🔥

[sykosomatic]

Tee hee hee can you write adam surviving the bathroom but hes really messed up and shit. Also I would not mind some hurt/comfort

(heavily heavily inspired by this post, so thank you op!!!)

‘adam survives the bathroom and is fucked up’ au for all my angst fans out there <3

i was gently flirting with the idea of a part 2, let me know if that’s something you’d want lol

⚠️ content warning!!!!! depression, anxiety, ptsd symptoms ⚠️

and if you were curious, this is the song i was listening to while i was writing lol:

blinds shuttered in a quick whoosh, plastic clacking against itself as adam’s heavy eyes fought to stay open just a few minutes longer. the sun had set; it was dark out, the sky turning a dark, heavy purple. he stared at the blinds for a second, blinking slow and heavy. his little flip phone buzzed on his bed, another phone call missed. they’d leave another voicemail.

adam checked, double checked, triple checked his locks; his closet, his bathtub, under his bed. he sank slowly onto his bed, arms folded so his hands white-knuckled his biceps. he shivered a bit, but it wasn’t cold in his apartment.

“i wanna live! i wanna live!”

and he had. somehow he had clung to life long enough to get out of that damn bathroom, and what had it helped? what, did he think everything was just gonna go back to normal, now? now that he’d been through that?

adam couldn’t sleep. he hadn’t slept much since he’d gotten.. well, if you wanted to call it rescued. in truth he was on the fence about whether he should’ve died in that bathroom. the people who’d found him called it a miracle and adam had to say he agreed. cosmic injustice; a gift straight from god himself, whoever that was.

he sighed softly as he stood, rubbed his hands on his arms to keep himself from shivering. the doctor told him he had circulation issues now. because amanda — he’d learned that was her name after her and her weirdo ‘boss’ tried to recruit him.. after he ‘won’ — had strangled him with a plastic bag. she’d been sent to do a mercy killing maybe. and he’d survived. twice he’d survived that bathroom. why wasn’t he done yet?

adam had a collection of other maladies courtesy of john kramer — jigsaw.

his grip strength in his right arm was a little.. wonky. it felt like what people described carpal tunnel to be, tight muscles and a weak grip, pain when trying to hold something tightly. he’d been scrubbing a plate the other day and found out that he probably shouldn’t do that.

he didn’t think it was a huge problem but — he’d gotten odd looks from his friends when he spoke.

they said he was… different. and well.. duh, he was different. you don’t go through prisoner of war type torture and come out the other side shiny and clean.

he didn’t like the way they said it though. he hadn’t talked to them in a long time because of it. well that and the fact that he spent most of his time sitting in his bed and staring at the wall. thinking. he’d never spent that much time thinking before.

he went to the bathroom— his bathroom— catching his reflection in the mirror and seeing streaks of tears down his cheeks. he hadn’t realized he’d been crying. he’d been having days like that — most days were like that. he used the heels of his hands and rubbed stars into his eyelids, trying not to see lawrence’s foot out of the corner of his eyes.

lawrence; he hadn’t thought about that name in at least a day. a new record. the only other person who knew exactly what he’d gone through, and he hadn’t bothered to reach out. yet. maybe he was going through the same things (or at least similar things) as adam was. adam himself hadn’t spoken a word out loud in a very long time. not since the last time a friend had come to check on him. was that last week? he didn’t know, couldn’t remember. he sighed, started stripping down out of his clothes. cold showers and nightmares were the only things that kept him awake.

he couldn’t help but think about lawrence in the shower, while he washed himself with one arm as the other sort of hung there idly by his side. he wondered what sorts of things lawrence had to do now, now that he’d cut off his own foot.

on the surface adam looked unchanged, save for the gaunt look in his eyes and sunken cheeks, his already slender frame astonishingly leaner with stress. he maybe looked like a drug addict, he thought, but drugs were one thing he hadn’t sunk to yet. he figured he’d have to leave the apartment for that and he really didn’t want to. not just yet.

adam finished his sad little shower, drying off and stepping back into his apartment. it was cooler now, he thought, surely it wasn’t just him being unreasonably cold all the time.

he suddenly remembered he’d left his window open when he’d shut the blinds, and he could feel his heart about to explode as he rushed over to shut it. he could feel his vision start to blur and his head spin, the edges of his sight turning dark as he fought the urge to panic. he slammed the window shut; it creaked as he clicked the locks shut.

his chest heaved as he sat down on his bed, half-naked, grabbing the knife he kept under his pillow. he brandished it out into the dark as he stood and re-checked everything three more times. he didn’t find anything. how could he have forgotten to shut the window?

adam dropped the knife on his bed suddenly as if it was burning him; for a second it looked like a bloody hacksaw by the streetlight coming through the slats in his blinds.

he collapsed in shuddering sobs quite suddenly, bringing his knees up to his chest. his face pressed against his knees, he let himself cry for a bit. when his body couldn’t take it anymore, he looked up, caught his phone buzzing again.

missed calls from friends, a few texts from them as well. checking in half-heartedly. he could tell they were getting tired of him being.. the way he was. well he figured he wasn’t changing back anytime soon. not unless they could erase his memory for him or fix what that bathroom had broken in him.

and then he saw it — an unknown number messaging him. he picked up the phone and looked at it, his eyes savoring the shape of the letters, taking them in and digesting them, holding them close to him, letting him just live in them for a moment.

‘adam? it’s lawrence. do you have a moment to talk?’

adam felt his lips curve up into the closest thing they’d gotten to a smile in a long long time. if anyone was able to help talk him off the edge it had to be someone who went through the same thing as him. right?

[the2amrevolution]

Kitty on a titty

[amazonclimber]

[heartnosekid]

peachie.cass on ig

[sartorially]

plzzzzzZZZ draw super tall kanaya

Dave is there to do the Midwestern Dad Looking At Bad Weather pose & snap selfies.

[blushweddinggowns]

Steve was completely normal the next day. Infuriatingly, normal. Flirting with girls and spinning his hat around. Normal enough for Robin to start to think she had a full on hallucination last night. But she wasn’t crazy. She knew that she saw those two going at it, all in front of Eddie's signature shitty van.

Didn’t she?

“You’ve been quiet today.”

Robin jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice, completely lost in her own thoughts. He was staring right at her, popping his gum as he went on, “You don’t even bring the flirting board out. Did you get bored of it or are you finally willing to concede that I’m a great flirt?”

“I’ll never concede that,” Robin said easily. It was true anyway, the guy was freaking terrible at it, at least with girls his own age. Now housewives and cougars he had a knack for. But anyone who could possibly be girlfriend material ended up leaving with a giggle and a funny story about the dork in the sailor suit trying to pick them up, and nothing more. 

But Robin had a feeling that maybe Harrington had been downplaying his skills in that department afterall.

He raised a brow at her, “So what’s your problem then?”

“I’m just tired,” She lied, “A consequence of having to be here so late. Alone. Thanks again for that by the way. Hope your night was worth it.”

The little shit didn’t even try to look like he felt guilty. He just smirked, “Oh, it was. And I’m holding up my end of the deal aren’t I? I’m not flirting with grandmas for kicks over here.”

She had to give him that. He really had been turning up the charm for the mall walkers. But still…

“Aw, poor you. Like you wouldn’t have been trying to get in someone’s pants without owing me,” She said, trying for casualness. Like she wasn’t watching for his every reaction out of the corner of her eye, “Isn’t the hump and dump the Harrington way?”

He rolled his eyes, his voice on the colder side when he answered, “Don’t believe everything you hear Buckley. I happen to be the perfect gentleman, thank you very much.”

Weirdly enough, part of her was starting to believe it. 

But still. Even if she saw them kissing, it left too many unanswered questions. What about the trail of heartbroken women he had left in his wake? What about Nancy Wheeler, the only girl who ever landed him for more than a day? They had been pretty serious before he’d gotten dumped, hadn’t they?

But now that Robin thought about it, no matter how many women came into Steve’s life, Eddie remained the only constant. Hell, in the short few weeks she'd been around him, it was obvious that he was obsessed with Steve, and vice versa. He was in nearly every day, until the manager banned him for being "distracting" to the workers. Which was half true, but Robin had a feeling it had more to do with him scaring customers away with his looks.

That was the only semi-scary thing about him though. He never really freaked Robin out that much, despite what others said about him. He was still in the loser category afterall and those were her people. Yeah he was loud, dressed like a confused goth, and sold drugs, but he wasn’t violent. He was shit stirrer, sure, but outside of appearances he was just mildly intimidating, at least to Robin. But when he was with Steve, even that was out the window. He basically just became a ray of sunshine, sweet, happy, bright, and weirdly enough…obedient? 

He basically did anything Steve asked of him, whether that be getting him lunch or helping them close up, the guy just did it. No questions asked, like it was an honor to be on Steve’s beck and call. Though Robin was sure the free ice cream helped.

Steve had sulked for days after Eddie was banned, and Robin thought it was because he lost his free personal assistant. But now…she didn’t know what was going on. 

Maybe this shouldn’t have been as shocking as it was. It’s not like there hadn’t been rumors. People had been making fun of them for being close for years.  But they were teenage boys around other teenage boys. How seriously was Robin supposed to take that? And teenage boys calling each other gay was like…a constant. Not just for Steve and Eddie. For literally any guy who did something slightly out of the norm was up for the title. Someone found out that a dude liked baking? Bam, gay. A guy dare cries in front of his friends after he gets dumped by a girlfriend? Super gay. She even heard a dude be called a fag for admitting to liking soccer for God’s sake. There was no rhyme or reason to male straightness, how was she supposed to know which rumors were true? 

She needs more, some kind of confirmation that guarantees she’s not wrong about this whole thing. And on a particularly slow day, she finds it. She hadn’t gone into work with the intention of eavesdropping on Steve through the break room door, but that’s where she landed. 

They had only been on shift for two hours and the guy was already on his second fifteen, insisting that he only had to make one “quick” call before going back to work. And she just…followed him back there, her curiosity getting the best of her.

“I know, I know. But it’s only a few more hours,” Steve’s muffled voice sighed, “I just wish you could still come see me. That rule is total bullshit.”

By this point Robin was pretty used to the tone of Steve’s voice. He usually sounded bored, always with a little edge of cockiness, unless you did something to rile him up. But he sounded different on the phone. Kinder. Sweeter even. She wasn’t sure. 

“Aw baby, are you down that bad?” Steve cooed. That cockiness she was used to was back in his voice, but now it was mixed with something else. Like he was breathless or something, she didn’t know, “Want me to walk you through it? I got ten minutes.”

Robin furrowed her brow, more than a little confused. Walk him through what?”

"Well if it feels so tight why don't you take it off?” Steve purred, barely loud enough for Robin to hear, “There you go. Isn't that better?"

Robin froze, mind racing at what she was hearing. But that couldn’t be right. She had to be misinterpreting this somehow, right? There was no way in hell that Steve would be have freaking phone sex at work-

“Yeah sweetheart, you can touch yourself now. Can you make it a little wetter baby? That’s it, good boy. Love when you get all whiny.”

Jesus Chrsit, he was. She had to stop listening after that, half out of embarrassment and half because…it just felt wrong. Though she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about where that conversation went. Extremely curious. But the small ounce of decorum she had left wouldn’t allow for it. 

Steve came out of the break room with a flush and a smirk ten minutes later, like the fucking weirdo he was. 

While he was distracted with their third customer of the day, she snuck back to the break room and pressed re-dial, not surprised in the slightest when she was met with a breathy, “Munson residence!" on the other line.

She hung up immediately at the sound of Eddie’s voice. That was all the proof she needed. There was no doubt about it now. Steve and Eddie were together. And had been for awhile. That four years comment wasn't looking like an exaggeration. 

And just like that her entire high school worldview was smashed into a million pieces. Because Steve fucking Harrington was in a relationship with a guy. A serious relationship. The same dude that she spent years obsessing over and being jealous over because of his charms, was as gay as she was. 

What a world. 

But somehow, this massive realization didn’t fix the jealousy. Because before she was jealous of all of the attention he got, from people she always thought he never deserved. But now she was jealous over the fact that he had managed the impossible. He was in a committed relationship with a man, a man whose dick he sucked while they were driving and who he walked through jerking off on the phone. While no one else was the wiser. How the fuck had he managed that? In this town of all places? While Robin was over here still pining away over every pretty blonde girl that smiled at her, Steve was living her closeted gay dream. How could she not be jealous?

But at least now it was mixed with some awe. Because if Steve Harrington could get away with being gay in Hawkins, why couldn’t she? She just wished she could talk to him about it. She just didn’t know what to say. But she knew she wanted to say something. 

Like maybe, Hey, I totally saw you making out with your boyfriend and I'm so far past being cool with it, I actually think it’s amazing. And oh I’m also gay and can we be best friends? 

Honestly though, from the little she did know about the guy, maybe that speech would be taken pretty well. She just didn’t know how to bring it up. Or when. 

But she was going to, eventually. She was going to get to know that dingus if it killed her.

Part two to this & from an this fic

[izzypaw]

[girlboyburger]

today i realized i could draw anything i want, so.

i drew myself a girlfriend

[cotl-eyesofdeath]

Your enemy whose godhood you stole notices you’re having an anxiety attack and says he has a way of helping, wyd?

[canipleasegetthenumber15]

Taking a break from a comm to make some fluffy G/t wind-down sketches. :)

First we have a two-panel comic of the borrower bros comforting human April <3 The conversation is based on audio I heard circling around a while ago (which, based on a Google search, I think is from Anne Carson's translation of Euripides, both of which I know nothing about other than the book looks like it's based on Greek mythology). I don't see much art of tinies comforting giants, but I think the premise is just so sweet <3

Then we have the regular bros pampering a tiny April because she deserves it. Leo's giving her head scritches, Mikey's giving her kisses, Donnie's gently caressing her face, and Raph is holding her/giving her a deep pressure hug.

[ageremoji]

||Getting Offered Paci Emoji||

[heartnosekid]

opalite moon 🌙 💎 | source

[souvenirpopcorn]

big day out